To sleep, perchance to dream...

No, I'm not talking about death (although that is what that quote pertains to in Hamlet (in case you didn't know where it came from)). I'm going to talk about dreams. Eventually. (This post is super long, by the by. I couldn't find a satisfactory place to cut it and make it two posts.)

First, an apology. It's been longer than I meant it to be since I've written here. Also, though I should doubtless get out of this habit, a preemptive apology for the likely rambling turns I'll be taking. I haven't planned this out at all and it's rather later than I ought to be up right now.

Second, a warning. I have, for the most part, been rather lighthearted here. There hasn't really been much substantive musing. I suppose the transportation post could have been something, at least in the beginning, but it didn't end up as much. This isn't going to be lighthearted. It may devolve into a rant. Just thought you might want to prepare yourself. That being said, I will try to include some pictures.

Now, on to dreams.

Do you remember when you were little? And adults would often ask what you wanted to be when you grew up? What did you say? Astronaut? President? Explorer? Doctor? Vet? Singer? Actor?

And then, slowly, maybe you realized that the chance of your dream coming true was kind of ridiculous and you decided to do something else. And that's fine. It really is. I'm not criticizing. Certainly not everyone can become president when they grow up.

I don't think it's wrong to change. Maybe you really wanted to be an vet when you were little. And then you realized how allergic you were to most everything that moves and some things that don't and how nervous you get around even just the cat your family has had since before you can remember and you thought to yourself, "Y'know, self? I'd probably be pretty miserable as a vet. So if I'm not going to be that when I grow up, what will I be?" That was me. Well, I don't know the exact reasoning, but eventually I decided that it wasn't for me. I think there must have been something between vet and author, but for the life of me I cannot remember what. And that's what I want to be now. Not necessarily when I grow up, because I'm rather doubtful that I will ever do that, but in the future. And I don't expect it to be any time soon. But that is my dream. Well, that's my big dream.

I have a lot of little dreams, too. It's a different kind of dreaming, more imagining, really, but it's just as important. I look up at the stars at night sometimes and I get the little dropping sensation in the pit of my stomach (the kind you get when you go over especially steep hills in a car (or, y'know, rollercoasters)) as I imagine gravity reversing and myself falling up into the universe around us. I seriously consider what I would do in the event of the (robot/zombie/general) apocalypse (the Facebook quizzes all tell me I'll survive the zombie apocalypse, so no worries there). I have imaginary conversations with the house elves who keep eating our food and taking our stuff (or at least moving it) and remind them to feed the Eater of Socks (which is from Terry Pratchett's Hogfather if anyone was wondering). I wonder if I would really have the guts to hop into a blue police box with a strange man who claims to be a time traveler (Doctor Who, and I totally would). I debate with friends and family what the best super power would be or explore which one I would most want (and perhaps how I'd get it) and try to explain why personal teleportation would solve all our problems.

And a lot of people don't do this kind of thing.

It seems to me that a lot of people get to the "I don't want to be a vet after all" part, but then they kind of stop. Somewhere in the growing up part of life, people stop dreaming. They stop wondering what the aliens just on the other side of the stars are thinking as they study us. They stop pinpointing the exact moment in time when they and their alternate self in the parallel universe diverged.

I understand that I don't have very much to worry about right now. I'm living at home and don't have to worry about food money or rent or paying really any expenses except those for my own amusement. I don't have kids. I'm not in school right now. There's a lot of space in my head not being taken up by worries that a lot of people have.

But it really saddens me, how much people aren't dreaming.

And it angers me when those that won't dream get annoyed with those that do.

I don't know how many times I've had to listen to comments (and sometimes more than comments) about how hard it is to support yourself as a writer. Or how many weird looks I've gotten. Or exasperated looks. Or lectures about getting my act together and doing something useful with my time.

Just recently I've gotten several projects into my head that won't leave me alone. One is teaching myself guitar. The other, inspired by a steampunk jewelery book, is to try some of the designs out and investigate participating a little in the steampunk culture, instead of just looking at and going, "Ooh, pretty." (See previous post on steampunk.)

To both of these ideas, mini-dreams, if you would, I have often gotten dubious looks and lectures and a general sense of "never going to happen."

Stop it. Just stop.

Yeah, I realize that maybe I don't have all the skills required to do the modifications usually necessary in making anything steampunk. So why can't I learn them? And I know I might never be great at guitar, but I'm doing it for me and my enjoyment, not to perform for other people. So leave me alone about it.

I am sick and tired of being ridiculed and reprimanded and shot down for dreaming. (Sorry, I couldn't think of a third "r.") Don't tell me to get my head out of the clouds. I will build my castles in the air and then I will invent hover-supports to keep them up there. I will dream the impossible dream. And the improbable ones too. I will get really excited and involved and emotionally invested with the stories I am experiencing through various media (books, tv, and so forth).

I will not be more realistic. If I'm being unrealistic, then reality sucks and we should change it. Or find a new one.

xkcd has a strip that I found recently. I won't post it here, because they swear in the last few panels, but the main panel is great and this is what it said:

"The infinite possibilities each day holds should stagger the mind. The sheer number of experiences I could have is uncountable, breathtaking. And I'm sitting here refreshing my inbox. We live trapped in loops, reliving a few days over and over, and we envision only a handful of paths laid out ahead of us.We see the same things each day, we respond the same way, we think the same thoughts, each day a slight variation on the last, every moment smoothly following the gentle curves of societal norms. We act like if we just get through today, tomorrow our dreams will come back to us.

"And no, I don't have all the answers. I don't know how to jolt myself into seeing what each moment could become. But I do know one thing: the solution doesn't involve watering down my every little idea and creative impulse for the sake of some day easing my fit into a mold. It doesn't involve tempering my life to better fit someone's expectations. It doesn't involve constantly holding back for fear of shaking things up." (This is the actual strip.)

I suppose the strip was the inspiration for this post.

I'm not perfect. My way is not necessarily the best way. I've succeeded in screwing up my life pretty completely. I apologize to my friends and family who are finding out about this here, as I had intended on sending out an email with some explanation before this, but I have...run into problems at BYU. I am on academic suspension as a result of grades. I am not where I thought I would be in my life. I'm living at home until further notice, trying to get a job, maybe/probably going on a mission sometime next year. And some would argue that at least a portion of my problems have something to do with my dreaming. And maybe they're right. Maybe my castles in the air could use a ladder or to to allow access from the ground.

But don't ever, ever expect me to stop dreaming. And stop telling me, or anyone else for that matter, the things I/they (we?) can't do. Maybe I can and maybe I can't. Won't it be fun finding out?

Maybe by striving for the impossible now, we make something merely improbable for the next generation.

I think maybe this is where my love of speculative fiction, in all its forms and media, comes from. (Speculative fiction is scifi, fantasy, and the other borderline genre.) It's full of people doing impossible things. It treats impossibilities as matters of fact and has people go on to achieve things even more impossible. It is the stories about the ordinary people who got caught up in extraordinary events. It's made of dreams. It's the dreams of dreams. It enriches your own dreams. I couldn't have thought of half the things I've thought of without the books and movies and music and shows that I love.

I have a better grasp on reality as it is (as opposed to as it should be) than many people who know me might realize.

I know that my approach to life right now is flawed. I know I need to fix the way I do some things. I know that some of my dreams are rightly considered impossible, okay? I know it's an uphill battle of Ragnarokian proportions to become a successful, published author.

And I know that a lot of my imaginings aren't possible for me right now. No, I don't know most, if not all, the techniques I'd need to make the jewelery in that book. And I wouldn't be ready for the Doctor to appear in the TARDIS. I'm in no shape to do the amount of running that would be necessary to accompany him. (Yes, I'm referencing Doctor Who again. Go watch some of it and come back and it will make more sense, especially if it's from the new series. Especially if it's David Tennant's Doctor.) But these dreams are what inspire me to make myself better. This is what leads me to acquire, or leads me to want to acquire, kind of strange skills. This is why I want to get in better shape and get back into school to take classes that teach me things.

I think that's what dreams are for. That, and giving a little more magic and wonder to life.

Maybe I'm just tired and frustrated and worn out and disgruntled from job hunting. And sorry, no pictures.